


Banter and Fantasy

by Kitashi



Series: Through Eyes of Courts and Fate [9]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACOMAF Chapter 38, F/M, Rhys POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 02:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8383885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitashi/pseuds/Kitashi
Summary: Chapter 38 of ACOMAF from Rhys's POV
The trip to the Summer Court ended in disaster. Right now, Rhys just needs a drink. But Feyre is not content to let him get wasted in peace, and Rhys is not one to take such a challenge lying down...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well would you look at that? A Rhys POV! I haven't done one of these in AGES (I think August???).
> 
> I posted the other half of this chapter in Cold Nightmares, but this was its original beginning (before I cut it in half for Feysand Week's Nightmares prompt lol)!
> 
> Anyways, I am still working through my requests that I've gotten on here, and I'm finally getting somewhere (there seems to be an end in sight!), so there will be more coming! I'm not sure how much fic writing I will be doing in November, as I am participating in NaNoWriMo, but I have one more fic in progress before I can start on my remaining requests.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads these and leaves kudos, comments, anything! It really means a lot and I don't tell you often enough how much I appreciate you guys <3 And as always, thank you to the lovely and wonderful @illyriantremors for being such an awesome friend and beta who is just seriously the best <3
> 
> Enjoy!

I sat lounging on the rooftop patio, staring at the wooden box in front of me that Azriel had brought me less than an hour ago. The crystal decanter on the table next to it was full of one of my favorite liquors, and if I had my way, it would be empty soon. I swirled the crystal glass in my hand absently, the amber liquid catching the light of the slowly setting sun. It barely had a mouthful or two left in it. Not nearly enough.

I couldn't believe I had been so  _ stupid. _ I was the High Lord of the Night Court. I had played under the radar and fooled Amarantha into thinking she had my loyalty for fifty years. I had survived numerous attempts on my life over the centuries since I had become High Lord. I had survived the War. And yet somehow I couldn't even effectively deal with some run of the mill guards without making it possible for them to run back to their High Lord.

I heard someone clear their throat behind me, forcing my thoughts back to the present.

“I know you're there,” I said, not turning around, though I had a feeling that Feyre hadn't been trying very hard to stay hidden.

“If you want to be alone, I can go,” she replied.

I jerked my chin at the chair next to mine. I didn't really have words right now, but Feyre was one of the few I would never send away. Every moment I spent with her was precious to me, even if she didn't know why. She took a seat next to me.

“What's that?” She eyed the box and the mother of pearl dagger fashioned into the lid. I drained my glass and held up a hand, making the decanter float to me and pouring myself another knuckle’s length of the mind numbing liquid.

“I debated it for a good while, you know,” I said, staring out at my city. “Whether I should just ask Tarquin for the Book. But I thought that he might very well say no, then sell the information to the highest bidder. I thought he might say yes, and it’d still wind up with too many people knowing our plans and the potential for that information to get out. And at the end of the day, I needed the  _ why _ of our mission to remain secret for as long as possible.” I took another drink and ran my hand through my hair. “I didn't like stealing from him. I didn't like hurting his guards. I didn't like vanishing without a word, when, ambition or no, he did truly want an alliance. Maybe even friendship. No other High Lords have ever bothered—or dared. But I think Tarquin wanted to be my friend.” And if I was honest with myself, the feeling was mutual.

Feyre glanced at the box again. “What is that?”

“Open it.” She gingerly flipped back the lid, revealing the sinisterly beautiful rubies.

“Blood rubies,” I said. Feyre's fingers, which had been slowly inching towards the sparkling gems, quickly pulled back. “In the Summer Court, when a grave insult has been committed, they send a blood ruby to the offender. An official declaration that there is a price on their head—that they are now hunted, and will soon be dead. The box arrived at the Court of Nightmares an hour ago.”

“I take it one of these has my name on it. And yours. And Amren's.” There was no question in Feyre's voice.

I flipped the lid shut with a rush of shadowy wind. “I made a mistake,” I said. A bigger one than I really cared to admit. Feyre opened her mouth, but I continued. “I should have wiped the minds of the guards and let them continue on. Instead, I knocked them out. It's been awhile since I had to do any sort of physical... defending like that, and I was so focused on my Illyrian training that I forgot the other arsenal at my disposal. They probably awoke and went right to him.” In fact, I could almost guarantee it.

“He would have noticed the Book was missing soon enough,” she reasoned.

“We could have denied we stole it and chalked it up to coincidence.” I drained my glass. “I made a mistake.” And unfortunately, my mistakes had the potential for people to end up dead.

“It's not the end of the world if you do that every now and then.”

“You’ve been told you are now public enemy number one of the Summer Court and you're fine with it.” I had never taken Feyre for an optimist. Sometimes her logic really confused me.

“No. But I don't blame you,” she said simply.

There was a first. I let out a deep breath and stared out at the city. While I was glad she didn't blame me, in the end it didn't really matter. We did what we had to do to try to stop Hybern. I couldn't afford to second guess myself now.

“Perhaps you could return the Book once we've neutralized the Cauldron—apologize.”

I let out a snort. “No. Amren will get that book for as long as she needs it.” If there was even a possibility that the answer to sending her home was in that book, it was worth prolonging the feud. Even if it could possibly end with losing my friend and Second forever, Amren had been through enough.

“Then make it up to him in some way. Clearly,  _ you _ wanted to be his friend as much as he wanted to be yours. You wouldn't be so upset otherwise.”

“I’m not upset. I'm pissed off.” Honestly, that was an understatement.

“Semantics,” she said dismissively.

I gave her a half smile. “Feuds like the one we just started can last centuries—millennia. If that's the cost of stopping this war, helping Amren… I’ll pay it.” In the end, stopping Hybern was the most important thing. I did not escape from one Hybernian general’s clutches only to submit to their king. I did not relish war like some did, having lived through and fought in the War. Experience, as I already knew, was a harsh, but effective, teacher.

“Do the others know—about the blood rubies?” Feyre's voice pulling me back to the present.

“Azriel was the one who brought them to me. I'm debating how I’ll tell Amren.” It was not a conversation I was looking forward to having. I probably needed to make a trip to the jeweler before I attempted to broach the subject. 

“Why?”

“Because her answer would be to go to Adriata and wipe the city off the map.” Feyre shuddered. “Exactly.”

We sat in silence, staring out at Velaris, as the sun slowly made its descent behind the mountains and the stars came out to play. Everything I did was for my court—for their safety. I wouldn't stop now.  _ Couldn't  _ stop now.

“I understand,” Feyre said suddenly, “why you did what you had to in order to protect this city.” I gave her a side glance, eyeing her warily. “And I understand why you will do anything to keep it safe during the times ahead.”

“And your point is?” I knew my tone was harsh, but I couldn't help wondering where she was going with this.

“Get through this war, Rhysand, and then worry about Tarquin and the blood rubies. Nullify the Cauldron, stop the king from shattering the wall and enslaving the human realm again, and then we’ll figure out the rest.”

“You sound as if you plan to stay here for a while.” There was an edge to my voice, but I was trying desperately to keep the hope from creeping into my voice.

“I can find my own lodging, if that’s what you’re referring to. Maybe I’ll use that generous paycheck to get myself something lavish.”

“Spare your paycheck. Your name has already been added to the list of those approved to use my household credit. Buy whatever you wish. Buy yourself a whole damn house if you want.” As if I would want her to live anywhere else.

Apparently that wasn’t the answer she was looking for, as I could see her grinding her teeth. “I saw a pretty shop across the Sidra the other day,” she said sweetly. “It sold what looked to be lots of lacy little things. Am I allowed to buy that on your credit, too, or does that come out of my personal funds?”

“I’m not in the mood.” Not in the mood for her teasing. Not in the mood to have my fantasies dangled in front of my face, just waiting for me to take the bait so they can be snatched from me. So I can be mocked for falling for her tricks—for caring.

She held my gaze, not backing down. “I never knew Illyrians were such morose drunks.”

“I’m not drunk—I’m drinking,” I said with a flash of a smile. It wasn't for a lack of trying though.

“Again, semantics.” She leaned back in her seat. “Maybe you should have slept with Cresseida after all—so you could both be sad and lonely together.”

“So you’re allowed to have as many bad days as you want, but I can’t get a few hours?” It seemed a little hypocritical, considering how much time she’d needed to even be a shadow of the feisty woman I’d met on Calanmai. 

“Oh, take however long you want to mope,” she said dismissively. “I was going to invite you to come shopping with me for said lacy little unmentionables, but … sit up here forever, if you have to. Maybe I’ll send a few to Tarquin—with an offer to wear them for him if he forgives us. Maybe he’ll take those blood rubies right back.”

I fought a smile. “He’ll see that as a taunt.”

“I gave him a few smiles and he handed over a family heirloom. I bet he’d give me the keys to his territory if I showed up wearing those undergarments.”

“Someone thinks mighty highly of herself.” Not that I wouldn’t do that very thing myself in Tarquin’s shoes if Feyre showed up in such attire—or lack thereof—but my circumstances were a little different than his. 

“Why shouldn’t I? You seem to have difficulty  _ not _ staring at me day and night.” The underlying question was veiled, but still there.

“Am I supposed to deny,” I drawled, enjoying this more and more, “that I find you attractive?” 

“You’ve never said it.”

“I’ve told you many times, and quite frequently, how attractive I find you.” Verbally  _ and _ in writing. 

She shrugged. “Well, maybe you should do a better job of it.”

“Is that a challenge, Feyre?” I purred, bracing my arms on the table. I so hoped it was.

She held my gaze unflinchingly. “ _ Is _ it?”

I could feel myself sobering up quickly and focused on Feyre. Focused on her lips that I wanted to leave swollen from too many kisses, on her labored breathing that gave her nervousness away. She put on a confident front, but when it came right down to it, she was toeing the line just as much as I was. Just for different reasons.

“Why don't we go down to that store right now, Feyre,” I said, slowly and softly, “so you can try on those lacy things—so I can help you pick which one to send to Tarquin.”

Feyre's heart was beating rapidly in her chest, and I felt warm despite the icy wind rustling our hair. This flirting we had going was progress beyond my hopes and dreams. The ease with which we bantered was unreal. Now, to see—

I caught a glimpse of shadow out of the corner of my eye that caused me to look up. To my dismay, Azriel shot from the clouds to land near the edge of the balcony. I’d never been so displeased to see my brother before. His timing was  _ horrible.  _ I looked towards Feyre, but she had vanished without a trace.

Oh no. She didn't get to tease and flirt with me like that and get away with it that easily. I wove a fantasy of daemati magic and sent it down the bond to Feyre with a smirk before entering it myself. 

The room was the aforementioned shop, the layout of which I knew mostly because of trying to be involved in my city and be on a friendly basis with everyone who set up shop in Velaris. The shop ladies, though figments of the fantasy, were giving us some privacy as they nervously tried to make themselves busy.

I sat myself down on the settee in the back of the shop, and waited for Feyre to emerge from the curtained off dressing room. And when she did…

The barely there red lace set looked beautiful on her as I looked her up and down. Twice. And as she stood there, looking confident and sexy with a hint of nervousness and apprehension in her eyes, I couldn't help but imagine how much better it would look  _ off _ .

Not taking my eyes off of Feyre, I spoke to the ladies. “The shop is closed for the day. You should take the rest of the day off and come back in the morning. We’ll leave the tab on the counter.”

As the ladies bustled behind me, I drank in the sight of Feyre, who clearly was just as wrapped up in this fantasy as I was—waiting for the sound of the door clicking shut, signifying we were alone in the shop.

She looked slightly nervous now, being on such display for me with no one to interrupt us, but I could feel her watching me as I swept my gaze over her slowly. Her curves were filled out again, making her look more like the woman I remembered from before she came Under the Mountain—before Tamlin’s well-intentioned neglect.

Knowing I would never get enough of looking at her, I finally met her gaze again, the blush heating her cheeks a lovely accent to the red lace. I crooked a finger at her. “Come here,” I murmured.

To my surprise, she walked towards me slowly, each step full of awareness, coming to a stop between my legs. I reached up and slid my hands along her waist, the feeling of her soft skin drawn from one of my few decent memories from our time Under the Mountain, of being able to touch her recklessly under the guise of our bargain. I tugged her a bit closer and leaned in to brush a kiss to her navel, and—

I was suddenly thrown out of the fantasy, the fast dimming light of the sunset just bright enough to send me reeling. As my vision began to clear, I felt a wave of slight pain flow across the bond; she’d hurt herself. My guilt was quickly assuaged though as she hissed, arousal and frustration heady in her mental voice,  _ “Prick.” _ An impressive string of curses followed.

I chuckled, both out loud and across the bond, proud of myself. I heard someone clear their throat, and looked up. Azriel gave me an odd look, though a smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth, and I realized that he had been here the entire time, and had probably been trying to talk to me until he realized I wasn't paying attention. I grinned at him, not the least bit sorry for my success.

“Could you repeat that?” I asked pleasantly. “My mind was… elsewhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! All comments and suggestions are welcome, & if you have a POV/scene you would really like to see, please let me know! Thank you for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I have a writing Tumblr! If anyone is interested in talking & discussing ACOTAR, ACOMAF, or giving suggestions/asking questions, I can be found at _<http://kitashiwrites.tumblr.com>_.
> 
> Hope to see you there!


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